My Double Dads
by Megustamuffins
Summary: Growing up in a logic-less house is hard, especially with two dads, a money eating grandfather and constant fighting. Sometimes I wonder why god chose THEM to adopt me. An AU Yullen fic from the persepctive of someone else. Two shot
1. Chapter 1

**This is not an OC story. It is a Yullen using the perspective or someone else to add humor and a plot. This will be a two shot :)**

**This is also AU. Thanks~**

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Growing up can be hard regardless of your situation.

Growing up with two dysfunctional parents also can be really hard.

Growing up with two dads, one dog and a debt collecting grandfather can put a new meaning on the word hard.

My name is Alma Mana Kanda Walker. I have two first names and two last names because neither of my parents wanted to give in and admit "defeat" as they put it, so there we go. Everyone just calls me Almana though; teachers don't even try to figure it out. I was named after my father's sister, she passed away when they were young. Which father, you ask?

My "first" father is definitely more of a father figure to me. He is taller, bigger and meaner than my other dad. He is a wanna-be samurai and owns more swords than the Japanese history museum in our town. He lived in Japan when he was younger, but when his dad got a job as a painter in France the whole family moved. He met my other dad in Britain, at a university when he was learning how to be a chef. He works at this Asian Restaurant part time, it is pretty good and the pay is more than adequate. It's called the Order, or sometimes as a joke the "Black Order" because whoever designed the place obviously had a thing for gothic style. Anyway, his name is Kanda Yuu and I almost never refer to him as anything but "father" because to be honest he is rather scary.

I have no idea why on earth my dad puts up with him. Kanda, or father, is the one whose sister was Alma.

My second parent, Allen Walker, or "dad" as I call him, is the practical opposite of father. He is British, and about five foot six (Kanda is six foot two). He is really skinny, and in my opinion looks like more female than male, because his hair is much too long. I remember hearing stories about my father (Kanda), I guess he used to have long hair, like down to his waist. My dad always mocks him because of it, but now the one with the too long hair is dad. It is beach blonde (dyed) and reaches his shoulders. He likes to put it in low ponytails with ribbons and colorful hair ties. To be completely honest he could get great work as a transvestite.

He plays the piano at a bunch of different places around town. Every Sunday night he plays at the Order, and on weekdays he varies from bars to fancy restaurants. Because he only works for a few hours, he is usually home when I get back from school. He likes to write stories and sometimes they get printed in the newspaper, everyone tells him he should get a column, but he just smiles and refuses.

I was adopted on December 4th, 2007. I was exactly eleven and four days, and boy was I happy when my dad came to the adoption agency and picked me up. Little did I know what was in store for me. They had adopted because both had been adopted as well. My father's parents had left him in a Shinto Church in Okinawa. My dad had also been abandoned, on the side of the road next to an Old Persons Home. Both had been adopted by caring families, and I guess they just wanted to return the favor.

So anyway, to my surprise, that was how I ended up here. I have lived with my two dads for about 5 years, and this year I am turning seventeen. They bought me a car to get to school for my sixteenth birthday, and to be honest I feel spoiled.

So what so I have to complain about you ask?

Well, it isn't so much complaints that I possess. More like admittance of trouble.

Every morning at exactly 6:00 I wake up to the sound of screaming. My dad wakes up early to cook breakfast, the only problem is he can't cook. My father has to jump awake to the smell of something burning, and he usually rushes into the kitchen to find a pan on fire, or a pot overflowing, let's just say it is something from a seasoned chefs nightmares.

Then comes the yelling, my father telling my dad to stop while he's ahead and my dad telling my father to go die in a hole. Then my dad usually starts crying and father has to comfort him which leads to another round of yelling. By then I am stumbling into the shower and banging my head against the wall.

Now you are probably like "what? Which dad or father? I am confused". Well dad (Allen Walker) is D.A.D. and father (Kanda Yuu) is F.A.T.H.E.R. if I call dad father he will get mad about how that doesn't sound intimate enough and if I call father dad he will complain how I am too informal.

By the time I am done with my shower (usually around 6:20) and I have brushed my hair, there is a meal on the counter prepared by my FATHER and my dad's attempt is in the trash. I eat while my parents rush around getting ready for work (as father works from 7:00 to 5:00: and dad from 7:30 to around 1:30) and then comes more screaming. Dad takes really long showers, and father hates that so much because then he is stuck with cold water. It is always a rush to who can get into the bathroom first. I learned the hard way that both are too stubborn to come up with a plan, such as dad takes it immediately while father cooks or maybe someone takes a shower at night.

No. Logic is ignored in my house.

My father usually wins because he is stronger, and then I have to deal with the sound of my dad banging on the door for ten minutes yelling about selfish bastards and no more sex (-_- ew) while I forlornly eat my cereal and think if I ever get a girlfriend I am never bringing her home. Like, ever.

I am usually done eating and my father is usually out of the shower by 6:40, then while I run around finding my binders and shoving them in my backpack, he drinks his coffee to the sound of my dad screeching out Michael Jackson in the shower, most likely using the bar of soap as a microphone. At 6:55 I am in the bathroom brushing my teeth and frowning at my hair (which likes to stick up oddly) and the sound of cat killing "singing" coming from the other bathroom has moved on to either Gwen Stephanie or the soundtrack from Tarzan, and my father has most likely left already.

I am in the car at 7:00 on the dot and driving to school, fixing my glasses and wondering why on earth god chose me to get the psychopathic parents.

It isn't that I don't love them, I do, I just wonder what purpose beings like them have in this world.

School is a totally different source of trouble for me.

I remember moving in with my parents, the third day was my first day of school. I was placed in "gifted" classes, which for a sixth grader just meant more homework. I didn't mind though, I still don't. I find myself pretty smart.

In the end of the second quarter, right before the start of first period, I was walked into the school by my dad and my father, one wearing a suit and the other in skinny jeans and a sweater vest (can you guess who wore what?), both obviously and undoubtedly gayer than a rainbow.

Now before you imply that meant they talked in high pitched voices and batted their eyelashes, that isn't the case at all. The thing is, when you have a gay couple, you can usually tell that they are gay. My dad is like a blip on the gay-dar (radar), just the way he acts is more feminine than most men, and he doesn't even try. Plus his hair had a bow in it, to my embarrassment. My father also has a habit of glaring at all men who look at my dad, sometimes they mistake him for a her, and other times they might just find dad cute. Father hates threats to his…. Well… I don't really know. When it comes to Father anything's possible.

So immediately I was tagged as "that kid with two dads" and when you have gay parents, middle school logic is you must be too. Trust me, it sucked.

Luckily I was old news after a week, once some girl had a relationship with a teaching assistant or something like that, and through middle school you could say I was invisible. I am totally fine with that, by the way.

But it all changed during the summer before my freshman year. That was when I met my grandfather, Marian Cross, who decided to kidnap me for two months and "make me a man" as he put it. My dad protested profusely, but when it comes to Gramps, both my parents are push-overs. My dad still has nightmares about his childhood.

Let me explain. Allen Walker, my dad, was adopted by Mana Walker when he was four years old. Mana, a clown in some well know circus, passed away and left his "son" to his brother, Marian Cross. Because of it, from age 10 to age 18, Allen Walker was the child of a womanizing, money spending, drug doing retard by the name of Master. Luckily for him though, Cross had a wife named Anita, who made sure that Allen was educated, fed properly, and had a good childhood. That was how the incredibly polite, sweet and very caring dad I know came to be.

Father on the other hand, is another story. There is really no reason why he turned out the way he did. He was adopted when he was eleven (same as me) by a Man named Froi Tiedoll (a French Painter). Now I have met grandfather Froi once before, and let me say there is no reason why father should have turned out like such an asshole. Not only is he very nice, but he is also too over-emotional and scary sweet. He reminds me of an extreme version of dad. Kanda Yuu, father, on the other hand is cold, manipulative, mean and rude.

Every year on Christmas (which is also my dad's birthday) the whole family and some family friends come over. Aunt Lena and Uncle Lavi always bring their kids, Komui and Reever (named after her deceased brother and his friend), and let's just say that father despises Lavi. He tried to cut off his arm with one of his favorite swords too. Luckily dad stopped him, but I bet he would have really done it too! They aren't really my uncle and aunt, but they act like it so I guess it fits. Uncle Lavi always tries to flirt with dad though, so I guess that might be why father dislikes him so much.

But I like Uncle Lavi, he always tells me stories from when he went to school with Aunt Lena, father, and dad. Last year he told me about when dad and father first started dating.

Father used to hate dad, and the feelings were returned (strongly). One year Lavi and Lena had dragged Allen and Kanda with them to a concert, to Allen almost got crushed when one of the lights hanging from the stage broke and fell. Father had saved him by pushing him out of the way, and because of it Kanda broke one of his legs, right at the knee too. He couldn't walk for months, and the whole time Allen took care of him. Going to the physical therapy sessions, wheeling him from class to class, and getting him groceries. You could say they lived together for the first few months. By the time Kanda had healed, it was almost like they were married. Lavi had said it seemed as if they couldn't function without each other anymore.

Allen had started spending the night at his own dorm again, when Lavi's friend Tyki had asked Allen to be his boyfriend. Kanda, who was there at the time, butted in and said something I never will ever forget.

According to Uncle Lavi he said "Fuck off you rich bastard, he's mine. Go find your own." And to Lavi and Lena's surprise, Allen didn't even argue. He just, accepted it I guess. I always thought that it explained a lot. They started off fighting, and keep at it.

Uncle Lavi says they are "enemies with benefits" but I disagree. Maybe, just maybe, there is something else there.

So anyway, sorry, I got off topic.

So for two months I traveled with Grandfather Cross. We went to Japan for a few weeks, then to Korea for a week, and for a month we lived in America. To be honest I really liked it in America. I guess I was an oddity there though, I mean, a Japanese boy with a British accent and red hair. I naturally have red hair, believe it or not. And I am 100% Japanese. I lack the polypeptide Proopiomelanocortin, which causes my naturally black hair to turn a deep red color. I have been accused to dyeing it so many times it isn't funny.

Even with the strange looks and questions, it was a lot of fun. I think that because of it I gained a lot, besides a higher alcohol tolerance that is. I also grew about a foot, so freshman year was definitely different than middle school had been.

Along with the good changes, also came the bad ones. Other kids parents, some of them, were part of this church called God's Way. It is a few blocks from the school, and I was more than familiar with that place. They had an aversion to homosexuals, and my house had been the target of more than one door visits and once even an attempted exorcism. That did not end well for the poor pastor though, as he retired a few days later. The new man in charge that had been put there a year ago was a lot more extreme. I am pretty sure that my parents were a topic of interest for them every Sunday, heck he were probably the reason they were even still up and running. Day after day we had those door-to-door bible readers preaching they could fix my dad or get rid of the bad demons residing within.

So because of the popularity of that church, cracks and humor about my family was popular. But it is also how I met my best friend, the quarterback of the football team.

He is probably the reason I'm not picked on, and I remember how we became friends. Someone had dared one of the stupid junior varsity football players to ask me how gay sex worked, and right when those words came out of that stupid boys mouth, I heard something behind me I will never remember.

"You interested?" The voice said with good humor. "Because you know, they say High school is the best time to come to terms with your sexuality. I am sure your friends will be happy to help you discover that one your own." And with laugh a large hand settled on my shoulder, and immediately I discovered my best friend.

We have a few AP Classes together this year, and he is also on the tennis team with me. I have yet to have him over though (even though we have been best friends for , but Friday night we have to work on a project, at my house AND he is staying over.

Two days and someone will finally have to see what I put up with daily.

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**One more chapter to go fools! Find out what happens when Almana brings home his so far nameless friend!**

**Any name ideas? I am stumpted. Update whenever I muster enough inspiration.**


	2. The Bad Guy

Dad got reprimanded by Officer Johnny again today.

Officer Johnny is this scrawny, nerdy little cop that lives next door. He likes to patrol the neighborhood daily on this little blue and red scooter that has a siren and everything, but sounds like a dog being stepped on repeatedly.

So anyway, last Christmas (hopefully as a joke), Uncle Lavi bought these pair of fuzzy blue cat ears for dad to wear around the house that came with a matching blue apron which says "Your purrfect for me". Ever since then, dad tries to find any excuse to wear the ridiculous outfit, much to fathers chagrin.

Dad and father always fight about little stuff like that, and the other major source of bickering is from the laundry. Neither wants to man up and do it, so it literally piles up until it reaches their ceiling (I do my own). So today I guess dad ran out of clothes, and thought that it would be alright if he wore the apron as a substitute until he finished the laundry. So I guess he was inside, washing the clothes, butt naked except the apron for half the day.

There is this little fuzzy orange cat named Timcampy that dad absolutely adores, and look and behold, right at noon it made a stop in front of our house. Dad saw it, and ran out of the house with a bowl of milk, conveniently forgetting that all he had on was the apron and a pair of cat ears. Officer Johnny took that precise time to ride by on his scooter, and one thing led to another, which led to dad being once again handcuffed (after finding some clothes from a horrified neighbor) and brought into the station for indecency AND public disruptance. So father had to get off work early to go bail dad out (who still had the ears on) and let's just say he wasn't too happy.

And they wonder why gays have such a bad name.

So tomorrow is when I bring home my best friend, Neah, who is more than happy to be coming to my house. I have no idea why, but I do know he lives in a huge house with his whole family. I am hoping by tomorrow everything will be good, and I really am praying that it goes well.

The home routine, as I like to put it, is really complex but always the same (except for today and other officer-Johnny days). I get home from tennis practice around 3:15 and dad is already asleep, usually passed out on the couch. I make something to eat while dad continues to sleep, he likes to cover himself in this fuzzy blue blanket that has a cross on the center because he said his old father had a blanket just like it.

I go and do my homework after I eat, our refrigerator is stocked because dad eats like a monster. Then at 5:45 father gets home and slams the door, causing dad to fall right off the couch. Everyday, no joke.

Then comes creaming, yelling, fighting, punching and once again dad cries, causing father to look guilty and then comes the making-out which I DO NOT want to see. So I am usually in my room until 6:45 which is when another fight arouses about dinner.

Father loves Soba, it is literally all he would eat if he could. Dad doesn't mind, but he would rather have something sweet.

So usually father cooks Soba and something for dad, and I just eat whatever because it all tastes amazing.

We all watch Tv in the living room until 9:00 because that's when my parents start the cuddling and it just escalates from there. I go back to my room and do whatever, and try to ignore the sounds from the rest of the house (loud music helps).

So yeah, I better set some ground rules for tomorrow though.

…..

This morning I woke up a little earlier, and sat my parents down.

"Look. Neah is coming over with me, at about 3:30. He is spending the night. You will behave, not fight, and leave all the family daily arguments until tomorrow after he leaves. Dad, you will not wear the cat ears and father, you will put your sword under the bed and leave it there." My father sneered and dad looked sad, but they nodded and I safely left the house.

When I got to my locker, right next to me, Neah was shoving a large bag into his locker (which refused to close). I smiled and he waved, before pushing against the black fabric some more.

"So." He said, as he finally locked the bulging locker. "I am coming home with you." I nodded and he shot me a grin. "Cool."

Tennis practice was ending a bit early, as one of the guys accidently knocked couch out with a ball to the head. We stopped at the burger place on the way home, and surprisingly, Neah ate about as much as my dad might have.

When I walked in the door, though, it seemed that both my parents had forgotten about our agreement, as well as forgotten about all their morals.

The first thing I noticed was flour everywhere. The second thing I noticed were screams coming from the center room. I rushed in their as the shouts became louder and louder, wincing at the high pitched resounding screaming.

There in the middle of the room, torn newspapers thrown from high to low, was my dad screaming at Father. And when I say screaming, I mean screaming. Never before had I heard my dad this mad, this upset.

His fists were clenched, and one hand, quicker than I could see, raised and smacked my father across the face. "Get the hell out!" came the shout, as the below six foot man shoved his opposite, stone faced as he glared right back.

"Fuck you." Came the reply. Then he turned, and left, his stomps echoing across the wood floor, my dad just watching him walk away.

"Father!" I yelled and he turned, his face its usual stoic mask. He nodded at me and then slammed the back door, my dad collapsing on the couch, a weary expression on his face.

"Dad?" I asked hesitantly and he looked up at me.

"it's nothing." He said flatly. "Absolutely nothing." Allen, dad, stood and looked at Neah, who stood in the kitchen doorway with slightly narrowed eyes.

That's when I realized that maybe; I didn't know my parents, at all. My dad, the man who had never raised and finger to me and who had never been the harsh, mean, rude person glared at my best friend.

"I don't want a Noah in my house." He said, his mouth set in stone. I knew he wasn't talking to me, as Neah smirked and looked at me.

"That isn't your choice." He stated and then looked at me, his eyes gold and piercing into my head. Like a blinding explosion of color.

I was in my room, and Neah was sitting in my chair. I jumped up and pointed at him.

"You! What happened, what…" I drifted off, trying to clear my fuzzy mind. Neah looked back at me, and I shook my head, something resting on the corner of my mind. "Uh, sorry…. I don't know what just happened."

Neah stood and put a hand on my forehead, and tilted his head to one side. "Uh, are you okay? We got to your house, I said hello to your parents and then we came into your room." He pointed at my Tv, which was on and the volume up. "then we watched TV."

I tilted my head to the side. "Uh, Neah where's my dad?" Neah pointed to the door and I rushed out, seeing my father and dad sitting on the couch, a wide smile on Allen's pale pink lips and their hands grasped firmly.

I looked at him, and smiled. The fuzziness was already gone. "Yeah, sorry, I guess I must have bumped my head during tennis or something, probably lack of sleep."

Neah smiled and laughed. "Almana, maybe you're just mental." I looked at him again and then looked down at my hands. I still felt like something…. was missing. But my head was finally clear and I glanced back at him.

"Hey, you want to go into the living room? We could play the X-Box or something."

…XxX…

I was on the floor by one in the morning, Neah taking the bed, and he looked down at me. My eyes closed and I drifted off to sleep.

Neah stood up and looked through the open door, into the living room which was now vacant., lights off.

"I promised I would make this time better." He said softly. "It's finally your chance to live, Allen Walker. Don't make me fix you too much." He turned and got back into the bed, his eyes closing gently. "It's time we all had a second chance."

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I felt it was time Neah was the good guy :)

Hope you enjoyed this, sorry it took so long ;_;


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